A Killing Joke
by Baronvonblack
Summary: I'm not a monster...I'm just ahead of the curve." What happens when Harry finally snaps, and delights in his killings, explosions and dynamite? Will the wizarding world be ready for the Clown Prince of Crime?
1. Chapter 1

Bill Weasley mumbled something incoherent in his slumber.

He was extremely exhausted. His team of Curse-Breakers had travelled extensively through the hidden chambers of Tutankhamen's tomb, having to avoid many muggle tourists and archaeologists.

The wards were very tricky to crack, requiring the utmost concentration and greatest amounts of magical power. It took the entire team's combined magical strength to break open the wards, and then there were still the booby traps to deal with…

Several wizards had been injured by poison darts. Being beyond the abilities of the medi-witches in Egypt, they had been evacuated to St. Mungo's back in England.

Needless to say, as soon as he returned home he fell asleep straight away.

His wife Fleur wasn't here of course, as his arrival was under extenuating circumstances. She was probably visiting his family, or dining with friends, or doing such social things. Even with the war on, Fleur was quite confident in her ability to defend herself and would not let it influence her life.

He grumbled again and gasped as a bucket of cold water was poured over him.

"Rise and shine, Billy-boy," a sing-song voice said.

Bill was about to give this person a sharp retort as he opened his eyes, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a gasp of shock.

The man was dressed in a dark purple jacket and pants with a green vest that had splashes of blood over it. His tie and shirt underneath were also purple, but his shirt was a considerably lighter purple, and black gloves and shoes.

The Weasley looked on in revulsion at his face, but he frowned as he noticed a faint, lightning-bolt scar underneath the fading, cracked clown makeup. "No…Harry?"

"Actually, it's Joker now, Billy-boy," the wizard said with a dark grin. "You saw my scar? I've got plenty of scars now!" he exclaimed suddenly, like a child in a chocolate shop. He pointed to gruesome ones carved into his cheeks which seemed to curve upwards like a smile. "You want to know how I got these particular scars?"

"But Dumbledore told us all you were dead!" Bill yelled out, now fully awake as he stood up, grabbing his wand off the table.

Joker growled under his breath – he didn't like being interrupted, before his slight look of anger resided into his usual look of dark amusement, a maniacal glint in his dull green eyes, accentuated by the messy black makeup around them. "I believe that what doesn't kill you will only make you…stranger…" he gave off a high-pitched, but definitely disturbing, laugh, before beginning to muse briefly. "But then again, I suppose I was 'dead'." He gave off another deranged laugh. "It was quite liberating – you should think of it as…uh…therapy!"

"Harry, listen!" Bill urged.

"I said it was Joker, Billy," the Joker said, a menacing tone in his voice as he stepped forward.

It was then that Bill truly saw how twisted Harry – no, the Joker's – face really was.

His long, wild hair fell down to his neck and was dyed a shocking green. Over his mouth, it seemed that red paint had been hastily sprayed over his face, and it truly did highlight his horrific scars…

The Joker took him by the shoulder, taking him for a small walk through his house. "You see, Billy, I'm confronted by a small problem – what does a man of my calibre do…" Bill briefly snorted at this, "If I find my wife cheating on me while I'm away?"

He shrugged. "Confront them?"

The Joker gave him another one of those sadistic grins. "Ah, Billy, we're thinking along the same page, but you have to be a little more specific. How do we 'confront' our cheating wives? Do we forgive them?"

"Um…I suppose," Bill offered weakly.

"WRONG!" The Joker growled viciously. "Did you not, at the day of your marriage, make a holy vow? 'Till death do us part', blah, blah, blah?" he waved wildly with his other hand, emphasizing his point. "Therefore, they've committed a crime…" he gave off a strange twitch at this. "Against you, and magic, and whatever deity you swore to! No, no, no, Billy, you don't forgive…" he smirked. "You punish them."

The Joker pulled up a Joker playing card and kept smirking as he activated the Portkey.

--

Bill gave off a scream of shock as the two of them reappeared, in a bedroom.

As he regained his bearings and looked around, he saw something that he never thought he'd see. "Fleur?"

Fleur Delacour Weasley, in bed, with Roger Davies, the famous Auror who caught many dark wizards in the war – both had looks of shock on their face.

"It's not like it seems, Bill!" the veela cried immediately as she attempted to cover herself with the sheets. Her grasp on English had improved vastly, but her French accent was unmistakable – it was her.

"Is that so, darling?" The Joker said as he walked over, beginning to stroke her cheek with a gloved hand. The others in the room were too shocked and dazed to notice it, although Fleur paled at the touch. "Does it seem surprising, that a young, pretty wife, alone, and by herself as her husband is away, seeks…adventure?" he questioned in a soft tone. "Should you forgive her, Billy-boy?"

Looking at the desperate face of his wife, Bill answered in an unsure voice. "Y-Yes…"

"NO!" The Joker growled, storming up to him and grabbing him by the neck, pulling him up into the air with one hand. "Your WIFE cheated on you with another man, and that's how you respond?"

Bill was gasping for air but the Joker loosened his grip and lowered him down. "It seems you're too wimpy to do what's really necessary here…and I thought Weasleys were the brave family," he added as an afterthought.

The reaction was instantaneous – just like the Joker had intended. "My family ARE BRAVE!" Bill snarled.

The Joker grinned. "Is that so? See, this woman here, this tramp, this whore…" he pointed to Fleur, who could do nothing as she was afraid of appearing naked in front of them, "Has defiled the Weasley name, has she not? She betrayed your trust, and your family's, and you're going to forgive her?" he said the last part in a disbelieving tone.

Seeing that Bill was slowly swaying, he leant in and whispered conspiratorially into his ear: "You see, I know a lot about girls. I know plenty about her type. She's a veela, you know that don't you? And while you grow old, she'll stay beautiful and ensnaring to all her admirers…"

Bill started hissing at this angrily.

"And besides, what does a Curse-Breaker have against a Dark Wizard Catcher?" The Joker pressed. "She's finished with you, Billy-boy…she's looking for her next catch. Just another prostitute on the road…"

After he had finished and stepped back, Bill looked just about ready to strangle his wife, all love for her diminishing.

"And let's not forget, the unsuspecting victim!" The Joker announced sarcastically, reaching across the bedside table and picking up Fleur's engagement ring. "You knew that Fleur was Billy's wife, didn't you?" the Joker accused.

Roger couldn't deny it – he opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again.

"And so the two lovers, stand before the judges," Joker walked across to Bill again. "What shall we do now? Shall we torture them? Castrate Roger's manhood? Slash off your pretty cheating tramp's…assets?"

The Joker sighed as he glanced at his watch. "Oops! Look at the time – I guess we have to make this quick." He pulled out a silver revolver from his jacket, unloading it and emptying out the bullets, and putting one back in before closing the revolver with a snap. "I assume you know all about how muggles kill." He handed the weapon to Bill, and then stepped back. "Let's do a little…social experiment. One bullet in the revolver – who do you hate the most? Who do you want to kill?" the Joker licked his lips and twitched slightly again.

Bill looked at the weapon, and then at the two victims.

"Who do you choose? Your cheating wife's man, or the cheating tramp herself?" The Joker questioned, before standing beside the bed. "And of course let's not mention me. You could kill me, as well, and assume these two were doing something perfectly normal naked, and in bed!" he cackled maniacally at his own joke, before muttering, "Well, that was pretty bad."

Bill looked between each of the three, and looked down at his weapon, hesitating.

"Bill!" Fleur cried. "Please, don't kill either of us! Kill this…this…maniac!"

"Oh, I'm not a maniac, my dear," the Joker said soothingly. "I suppose you could say I'm a little…schizophrenic."

"I still love you, Bill!" Fleur continued.

As Bill looked conflicted, the Joker decided to have his own say. "Just remember the Weasley family, Bill. Remember that they will carry the shame also!"

Bill growled, and pulled the trigger.

There was a noisy bang as Fleur fell dead, a hole between her eyes.

Joker started laughing, and clapping. "Wonderful shot, Billy! Really, one in a million! I couldn't have done it better myself!"

"You…you listened to this psychopath over your own wife?!" Roger growled.

The Joker pondered this. "Well, I am technically a psychopath, but I prefer to be called a…homicidal artist – I make art till people die!"

Bill pulled out his wand, attempting to mask the shock, the horror and the revulsion at what he did. "He's right! You! You turned me against her!"

"Oh, you can't believe that," the Joker said, clearly wounded. "I'm just an agent of chaos. And the good thing about chaos? It's fair."

"_Avada Kedavra!" _Bill yelled.

Instead of a green flash of light, however, all there was, was a bang and a stream of sparklers and ribbons.

"You really think I'm that stupid? You see, if you want to be in the game…" the Joker grinned. "You play by MY rules!" The Joker held up Bill's real wand. "You know, I was about to let you go, but who cares? I think I'll just kill you." In the blink of an eye he had drawn his silenced Glock-17 and shot him in the chest.

As Bill fell, the Joker turned around. "And as for you…_Avada Kedavra!_"

The Joker dropped Bill's wand with a grin, picking up his prank wand, and stopped for a moment to revel in his victims. "Oh, I love this job! I love it!" he gave off another cackle as he exited, pulling off of Bill's body his Gringotts' Curse-Breaker necklace.

--

Gringotts' Wizarding Bank was a place where many weird and daresay wonderful people would turn up to make withdrawals.

So, even with the arrival of several hooded figures, no one had any cause for concern, even if they were Death Eaters – everybody knew that the affairs of Goblins had nothing to do with those of Wizards, and to attack the Goblins was a foolish gesture, as if they entered the war, they would completely annihilate their foes.

"Yes?" a Goblin asked as he glanced over at the hooded figures with detached interest. "May I help you?"

"No," the man in front said with a delighted cackle. "How can you help others, when you can't help yourself?"

He pulled out a silvery detonator and activated it.

A fiery inferno roared throughout Gringotts as each of the windows shattered, the hidden explosives blowing up.

People ran around screaming as the Joker whirled off his cloak, taking out a sawn-off shotgun and firing it several times into the air. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he announced with a grand tone, his voice magically amplified.

However, everybody was still running around screaming – by this time, his…aides had taken off their cloaks, and with clown masks in place, had readied their assault rifles.

He growled as he realised they had paid no attention to them – the Goblins however had taken notice and were scrambling inside to arm themselves.

"GOOD EVENING, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" He roared, firing his shotgun again.

They all began to look at him in shock – some of the witches started screaming at his horrid face.

The Joker passed Bill Weasley's necklace across to one of his men. "Take three with you, kill anyone who stands in your way and start the next stage of the plan," he commanded.

"Right away, boss," the masked person said as he and three others disappeared.

With four left, the Joker looked on in boredom as a young Goblin charged him, giving off a war-cry, before shooting him in the face and sending him reeling backwards from the shot. He turned to address the growing crowd. "We are today's…entertainment," he said, drawing out the last word with great emphasis. "And if you want to survive…you do as I say. Now, will everybody please empty their keys here, in front of me?"

As soon as they realised what he wanted to do, somebody immediately yelled, _"Avada Kedavra!"_

The Joker leaned to the side as the green curse sailed past him, before raising his shotgun and killing the offender with a well-aimed blast. He walked over to the dead man's body, picking up the wand and examining it curiously before snapping it with a twist. "Now would anyone like to try that again?" he asked.

Throughout the hallway, there was a unanimous cry of _"Stupefy!" _and a unanimous gasp of shock as the red spells merely bounced off his jacket.

The Joker and his men responded by firing wildly into the crowd, killing dozens of people before the Joker stood back. "Any more?" he invited.

Those who had their wands started lowering them as they realised this was a fight they couldn't win.

"Now, unfortunately for you all…" the Joker began, "You're trapped."

And as if to emphasise that point, the doors abruptly slammed shut and locked themselves.

"A wonderful thing, goblin magic," The Joker cackled as all the lights started flickering off and on. "Especially when you're the one wielding it."

But it was especially foolish of them to allow the necklace of a high ranked Curse-Breaker to be able to access the underbelly of the bank – namely, the key room, where all the wards and the magic were centered on.

The Joker beckoned. "Come on, give me your bank keys, and I won't kill you," he said, although there was a hint of a commanding tone in his voice.

Reluctantly, and slowly, a podgy, short witch walked forward, dropping her key in front of the villain.

And soon, the witches and wizards all formed a line, dropping their keys in front of him as they realised this was a no-win situation.

The Joker cackled delightfully as he looked over the mass of gold in front of him, before taking a slick, black wand out of his pocket – with a wave, the keys all began to hiss and bubble.

At the shock and surprise of his audience, the Joker giggled. "What did you think I was going to do – steal all your vaults?" At the awkward silence that followed, he continued. "See, I'm a man of simple tastes – I like dynamite…and gunpowder…and gasoline…and spells! Do you know what all these things have in common? They're all cheap!"

He glanced behind them to see the three men coming back up, considerably bloodier but carrying several bulging sacks that had already been shrunken down.

"Oh, those?" He asked, pocketing the wand and putting some more shells into his shotgun. "Consider them…generous donations to our…charitable organization. We're not terrorists…we're just….ahead of the curve." He paused as he pulled out a detonator and the doors suddenly swung open. "Oh yes, and by the way, we've rigged the vaults with crates of C4 – for those of you who don't know what those do…stay around and enjoy the fireworks!"

By the time he finished, everybody had started their headless chicken routine, screaming and running the hell away from this demented psychopath.

"Should we retreat now, boss?" one of his henchmen questioned.

"Oh, you go right ahead," the Joker said, waving them aside. "But as for me, I'm going to enjoy the fireworks!" he added, giggling like a little child.

The henchmen, used to their boss's…erratic behavior, activated their Portkeys and left.

The Joker walked across the now-empty hallway of Gringotts, going down into the vaults.

He positioned himself in a place where he could see all the fireworks, as he called them.

It seemed unfortunate, however, that they weren't able to acquire enough explosives to destroy all of Gringotts – now that would have been an explosion he would be lining up to see.

But this explosion would certainly be pretty enough for his tastes.

He licked his lips in eager anticipation before raising the detonator and pressing the switch.

--

A/N: That's just a small introduction – what do you think? The Joker is far more amusing a character to write up than Batman, wouldn't you say?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Before I go on in this story, let me get one thing straight – Harry is NOT the Heath Ledger Joker, not entirely. He is not fully a "mass-murdering, schizophrenic clown". He is 50 the Heath Ledger Joker, 25 the Jack Nicholson Joker and 25 the original, comic-book Joker. The reason I chose this will soon become clear.

**--**

**GRINGOTTS LEFT HALF-DESTROYED BY CLOWN PRINCE OF CRIME!**

The headlines were bold and wide across the newspaper, as the Joker read through it silently before breaking out into laughter. "AHAHAHAHA! I like it – it has that certain ring to it, wouldn't you say, boys?" he raised his hands dramatically. "The 'Clown Prince of Crime', the Joker!"

His goons, who were doing an assortment of activities, like playing cards, looking through tomes on magic or cleaning their rifles and dueling acknowledged him with a series of laughs and agreements before returning to their respected activities.

Unperturbed, the Joker sat back in his chair, folding away the _Daily Prophet _before beginning to play with his wand.

He wasn't insane – he was just too clever for his own good. Because he was too clever for his own good, he was…bored.

The Joker stuck his wand back in his pocket before picking up the _Daily Prophet _again, and noticed the article in smaller headlines, **FUDGE REFUSES TO GIVE DUMBLEDORE FUNDING FOR WAR!**

Oh, the dear Order of the Phoenix – sitting together in their little group therapy sessions, cowering in fear at the big bad Lord Voldemort…

The Joker giggled at the thought – 'group therapy sessions'! He would have to remember that for later.

He looked at the picture of Dumbledore, and licked his lips, brushing his hair back with his switchblade. He was only a man – just the same as him.

After all, everybody, in the right circumstances, were just as…refined as he was.

--

"I have called an emergency meeting today," Dumbledore began, "After a series of unfortunate events. You are all aware of the disaster at Gringotts?"

"But Headmaster!" Hermione called out. "Nobody's ever attacked Gringotts and lived to survive – surely…"

"In normal cases, Mrs. Granger, you are right," Dumbledore acknowledged. "However, this new criminal does not seem to desire money. Rather, he destroyed the sections containing the largest and oldest vaults in the bank, such as the Malfoy, Black, Lestrange and Potter vaults."

At the mention of 'Potter', everybody except for Snape visibly stiffened. Dumbledore had all told them the tragic tale of his death at the hands of an unknown assailant, possibly one employed by Voldemort to kill his arch-enemy.

Because of this, everybody who knew him well had sworn to destroy Voldemort, becoming members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"But why would he do that?" Ron asked with a frown. "I mean all that money…"

Dumbledore looked down at the redhead through his half-moon spectacles. "Ah, yes, but here lies the problem – many criminals and villains, Voldemort…" everybody took in sharp intakes of breath, "included, are not motivated by desire for merely money, or property. Voldemort wishes to kill all muggleborns and half-bloods, and this 'Joker' character seems obviously quite psychotic – no regard at all for people, only destruction. And furthermore…" Dumbledore reached into his multi-coloured robes, pulling out a Joker playing card. "With Molly and Arthur's permission, Bill Weasley, his wife and Auror Roger Davies were killed."

"Blimey!" Ron gasped. "So that's why mum and dad were so down this week!"

Molly was attempting to hold back tears and barely doing so as she made strangled sobs, and Arthur was trying to comfort her with soothing words while Hermione shot him a poisonous look for his outburst.

"Indeed, Mr. Weasley, this is a tragic happening," Dumbledore said. "It would normally seem that Bill killed his cheating wife and Mr. Davies in a fit of anger, but things do not seem to fit – why would Bill kill his wife with a muggle weapon?"

At their silence, he took this as a sign to continue. "It seems our Joker took the liberty of manipulating Bill Weasley into killing his wife and her lover, and took credit for it by leaving this card." The aging Headmaster raised the Joker card for all to see.

It looked like a regular muggle Joker playing card, aside from the fact that the Joker was depicted stabbing a phoenix with a knife.

Remus stated the obvious. "He's taunting us."

"It would seem so," Dumbledore said gravely. "I must ask you to tread with caution around this man. He is not to be taken lightly."

"Nobody messes with my family and gets away with it!" Ron hissed. "When I find him, I'm going to kill him!"

--

Ginny sighed as she looked in the mirror, delicately dabbing at her eyes with a wet cloth to removing her eye-liner.

It had been yet another dating disaster. Her blind date was yet another pompous prick, demented with visions of grandeur and defeating You-Know-Who, and like all of them, wanted to have sex with her on the first date.

Needless to say, her bat bogey hex worked extremely well in convincing him otherwise, as it did the numerous other suitors competing for her love.

But it was what he said that hit her strongly – he had called her a whore.

A whore…was that what she was? Someone who didn't want to have sex except with the right person, and she was branded a whore?

Really she didn't even want to be here. She wanted to join the war, but dear old mother wouldn't let hear, ranting on about Weasley women and delicateness.

Deep down Ginny knew that she was deluding herself in basking in the presence of eager men to please. She knew that they were only there to attempt to replace the feelings of true love.

Her eyes became slightly watery from this train of thought, as it brought up memories of a familiar dark haired, green-eyed boy…

No – there was no use musing on the past.

Ginny put down the cloth and smiled sadly as she finished removing the remnants of her makeup. It would be yet another lonely night.

--

Voldemort emotionlessly looked at the _Daily Prophet_'s main article, before incinerating the paper and sitting comfortably back into his dark throne to contemplate this new piece of information.

After planning out a possible action, he snapped his fingers.

Lucius Malfoy appeared before him, bowing. "What is your bidding, my lord?"

"I wish for you to gather a team of Death Eaters," Voldemort hissed. "Not our Inner Circle, but able duelers nonetheless. I want you to hunt down this 'Joker', and destroy him – have some fun with him and his lackeys first, of course," he added off-handedly.

Lucius nodded. "As you wish – but my lord, if I dare ask…this man destroyed half of Gringotts. Would it not be wiser to recruit him?"  
"It is obvious that this man is completely insane," Voldemort replied coolly. "And he degrades himself to use foul muggle means of destruction. Why should we associate with mere scum like him?"

"As you wish," Lucius bowed.

Voldemort leant back into the throne. At this point in time, any unknown variables could seriously jeopardize his plan – even mere thugs like the Joker. It would do well for a show of force to string his dead body out above Diagon Alley, to prove that they should fear no one but the Dark Lord.

--

'_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, has demanded many things from our delightful Minister Fudge, but this preposterous request dwarfs them all.'_

Rita grinned as she finished up this sentence and dipped her quill into the inkpot. Oh, this would be a positively nasty piece of work! Perhaps she would win the Article of the Year award for this one (Which she had done so for the straight past three years).

'_The aging wizard requested – no, demanded – that Fudge was to loan him Aurors for his own personal army to be used to fight the Dark Lord.'_

The journalist turned to her notes and scanned for an appropriate outburst of anger made by the dear cumbersome Minister himself…

Suddenly there was the sound of a pot breaking in the kitchen.

Rita turned around and frowned as she got up, wand in hand, to investigate the disturbance.

She went into her homely kitchen and found a smashed cup on the floor.

"Oh dear," she muttered. How did this happen? Oh well, a simple repairing charm will do the trick…

"Good evening, Miss Skeeter," a sing-song voice said.

Rita whipped around to see a cloaked man standing in her kitchen. "Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you get in here?"

"Oh, don't be so rude, darling," the man said as he walked towards her. "After all…" he took off his hood. "You're an agent of chaos, like me!"

Rita gasped as she lowered her wand. "The Joker!" the Joker, was here, in her kitchen! Quick! She should…

"Looking for an exclusive?" the Joker cackled with a grin. "Unfortunately not today, I've got a few things to take care of later…but I'm here to offer you something better."

"What?" Rita asked in puzzlement. Why would a wanted terrorist come here?

"You see, Miss Skeeter," Joker walked further towards her until they were only inches away from each other. "I'm a man who likes to make, uh, profit. And I believe we could both profit if, uh, we formed…a mutual alliance."  
Skeeter crossed her arms. "And what would I do?" she asked, still unconvinced.

The Joker gave off another deranged laugh. "Why, nothing new! You see, I'm an agent of chaos, just like you. I introduce a little anarchy, upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos! I bring the men way up here…" he gestured up with his hand. "Down to our level. And you're just like me – but you prove that the pen is truly mightier than the sword!" the Joker gave a twisted grin. "You see, darling, all you have to do is this – introduce a little chaos. Write some slander, make public scandals and filth, while I go around blowing things up. And we will watch, as the whole world collapses in on itself!" he laughed – long and hard.

Rita frowned. While she was all for a good scoop, was it worth it to trust the word of a wanted terrorist?

The Joker seemed to hear her thoughts as he raised a finger. "Don't worry, you'll be getting the inside scoop on everything a knowledgeable man like me finds out," he said. "You see, every white knight has black stains on their suit. It's up to us to find those stains – every time I see something, rest assured I'll pass it on to you. I'm a man of my word, and I can genuinely promise that once we're finished…" the Joker laughed heartily, "All of the Ministry will never be able to walk out in public again! Everybody will know what they did, what affairs they had, what scandals and lies they did! And it'll be because of us. Everyone is a schemer, caught up in their own little worlds…Fudge is a schemer, Dumbledore is a schemer, Amelia Bones is a schemer! And it's up to people like us to burn all their little schemes down." The Joker raised a hand. "So, whaddya say?"  
Rita grinned – this was her chance to make her mark in history as one of the most well-informed journalists in the world – but more than that, to completely decimate, destroy and embarrass the biggest officials in Wizarding Britain! "Done."

They shook hands to seal the deal.

--

Lucius consulted his dark arts books in his personal office in Malfoy Manor.

He smoothed out a fading page with his gloved hand, looking over the formula for magical explosives.

Magical explosives were, in a word…unstable. Even the slightest hand tremor could set off the magic in them and detonate the volatile mix of substances in each explosive.

As he finished reading over the full description, he looked back up to the newspaper clippings and photos that he had gathered of the elusive Joker.

There were few clear ones – only blurry outlines and shapes, except for one that showed his insane face perfectly, albeit slightly blurry as he was in the middle of moving.

Whoever this was, he didn't use magical explosives – the explosion that had been set off that destroyed half of Gringotts was much more potent and would require huge amounts of magical explosives to do so.

Perhaps muggle explosives? Lucius immediately dismissed the possibility. It was near-impossible that foul muggle explosives could ever create such havoc. So perhaps a new type of magical explosive?

"Ohohohohohoho," a soft, menacing voice laughed. "Ahahahahaha."

Lucius stood up, whipping out his wand. "Who's there?" he demanded.

"Ohohohahahaohohohahaha!" the Joker walked through his door, dressed in his usual outfit with one hand behind his back and a sadistic grin etched – literally – on his face.

Lucius's eyes widened. _"Avada…"_

The Joker raised his silenced Glock-17 and blew off his hand.

Lucius gave off a scream of pain as his hand blew off in a mass of red and clutched at where his hand once was pathetically, dropping to the ground in pain.

The Clown Prince of Crime grabbed him by his shoulders and dragged him across the floor and into the main hallway as the regal Death Eater writhed around on the floor, still in shock from losing his hand.

His men were in the main hallway, and had also captured Draco and Narcissa, chaining them and keeping their weapons trained on them.

The Joker threw him into the middle as his goons formed a circle around the three of them.

Lucius looked up at the deranged clown with pure venom and malice in his eyes. "You…you freak!"

The Joker's eyes suddenly became icy cold, and Lucius realised that he said something extremely foolish.

He pointed to the multiple scars running up and down on his face. "You wanna know how I got these scars?" he asked, pulling Lucius up to his feet and flicking out a knife.

Lucius's fearful eyes looked into the maniacal green eyes of the Joker as he recounted his story. "My uncle was a drinker…and a fiend. One night, he goes off crazier than usual, so he decides to take it out on me. He takes the kitchen knife… 'Why so serious?' he sticks the blade in my mouth: 'Let's put a smile on that face!' And…" he frowned at Lucius's cold face. "Why so serious?"

--

"PREPOSTEROUS!" Fudge burst out in anger. "I will not be swayed by that…senile old fool!"  
In his hand he was holding yet ANOTHER letter from Dumbledore, requesting reinforcements, funding, etc, etc.

He groaned and held his head in his hands. As the 'unofficial leader of the light', Dumbledore had extreme influence in the affairs of the Ministry, and many people had taken an interest into this political war between the Minister and Dumbledore.

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he called in an impatient tone.

Amelia Bone stormed in and threw a set of photos onto his desk. "Is this why you pulled funding from the Auror department?" she demanded.

Fudge picked up the photos and promptly dropped them in shock – he felt sick.

The photos showed the gruesomely torn bodies of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. And dear Merlin, their faces… "And…and…Mr. Malfoy?" he stammered.

As if on cue, Fudge gave a girlish scream as a heavy body slammed into the sole window in the Minister of Magic's office.

Amelia immediately sprung into action – "Aurors!" she roared, before quickly moving over, opening the window and pulling the body in and throwing it onto the desk.

Before Fudge could protest about his paperwork being messed up, he suddenly saw what had happened. "Dear Merlin…"

It was the senior Malfoy, but with the grim clown make-up on it would be difficult for most people to recognise. His face was badly mutilated with bruises, and noticeable scars on his cheeks that were carved into what appeared to be a smile.

Aurors immediately burst onto the scene before looking at Lucius's mutilated body, their eyes lined with shock.

"Secure the office, and lead Minister Fudge to a secure area!" Amelia yelled as she focused her attention on the body.

She frowned as there was a muggle video cassette taped onto Lucius's bloodied formal robes. _Who would use a muggle tape?_

Reaching over, she pulled it off of Lucius's robes. "Get me Arthur Weasley!" She snapped tersely.

--

With Mr. Weasley's help, Madam Bones, Minister Fudge and several other people were now in a muggle objects storeroom containing very little magic in the air, and were able to operate the video without much fuss.

There was a burst of static suddenly before Lucius was there, strapped to a chair and badly bruised and scarred.

"_Are you a Death Eater, Lucy-boy?" _a sinister, sing-song voice asked.

Lucius quivered slightly before replying. _"No! I would never…"_

"_Then how do you explain this?" _The camera zoomed in on Lucius's arm, where the Dark Mark was clear and for all to see. _"I mean, it's not like having a Dark Mark on your arm is a fashion trend, is it?" _the voice laughed at an extremely high-pitch.

The screen shook for a moment as the camera was placed down before a man walked onscreen.

Amelia gasped. "The Joker!" she cried.

The Joker grinned for his shocked audience. _"Hello to you, Minister Fudge. You see here before you…" _he pointed over his shoulder behind him. _"The source of old Voldy's charity funds. But we're not here to talk about him today…" _the Joker gave a twisted smile as he leaned in closer to the camera. _"If the members of the community club the Order of the Phoenix don't give themselves up in…sixty minutes, then I will kill someone. And then the next day, and then the next, and then the next, and the next. The Order of the Phoenix is to reveal their identities to the public, and turn themselves into the Ministry if you don't want me to kill anybody. It's only a simple request from an upstanding member of society like myself. After all, I only want the same thing as you…" _The Joker laughed harshly before the camera was suddenly assaulted by a storm of fuzz. The only things they could make out were screams and gunshots.

As the tape cut off, the room was silent for a while until Madam Bones voiced all of their thoughts. "I do believe we have a serious problem."


End file.
